


Feel The Rainbow

by ForgottenChesire



Series: Kinktober 2018 [10]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens being dicks, Established Relationship, Forced Empathy, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Pre-James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: “The doctor didn’t ask for thisgift,” Leonard says drawing everyone’s eyes to him. He straightens up, trying not to lean into Spock’s side but not wanting to drift too far.“The doctor doesn’t like havin’ decisions made without his consent. He doesn’t like havin’ his mind basically being raped by emotions tha’ aren’t his own. He doesn’t like bein’ so overwhelmed by those emotions tha’ death seems like the best fuckin’ options. How would ya feel if I walked up to ya and yanked on yer damn antenna!?” he demands angrily. His accent coming out thickly as Spock squeezes his hand. The Vur’erd cringe back, some of the younger ones holding their antenna protectively.





	Feel The Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> Day 10 Bonds (Empathetic or Telepathic)

Leonard would like the cosmic records to note that he absolutely _hates_ going on away missions. It’s the last truly conscious thought that he has. Because Jesus fuck. It’s too much. It’s just so… It presses down onto him. Like an insistent cat or dog, it pushes and presses and settles on him. Makes it hard to breathe. A gift they had called it, looking so sad as they placed their hands onto him. He vaguely hears shouting. Yelling that passes through mountains of cotton to reach his ears. Bright pink that rolls like waves in the ocean. It burns. Coating his vision in the color. Anger. So much anger. Dark red that slashes through the pink like lightning. It pulls on his. Sucks him in. Sadness. Colors he’s never associated with the emotions surging around him. He can’t breathe.

 

“Doctor McCoy.”

 

He needs to breathe. Inhale. He can do that. He’s been doing that in rapid succession. Hyperventilating. Something he needs to stop. Exhale. Exhale damnit. Deepen your breathing. Too hard. Too hard but he has to do it. Red and pink clash mixing with a pale green. There are other colors, lighter and harder to feel that dance about. Part of him wants to close his eyes and see if that helps. But he’s terrified. The green is there, thick and it wraps around him. But he can’t feel it. He can’t feel it, he wants to laugh hysterically at that but then a hand touches him. Worry. Someone is worried about him. The rainbow slams into him, dislodging the green. He sobs. Loud exhale and then a shuddering inhale. He can’t handle this. Yellow pain. His own? Someone else’s? He doesn’t know. He can’t separate it. He wants to die.

 

“No,” the voice cuts through the emotions. Bright pink flashes but tempers back into pale green. Sadness. Worry. Then nothing. Not black. Just nothing.

 

“Breathe.”

 

He follows the command. In. Out. It comes so easily now. Breathe. Slowly he looks down, at the hand touching his pulse points.

 

“Spock,” he breathes out.

 

“Doctor,” Spock gives him a half smile.

 

Leonard looks back down at their conjoined hands. They’re practically making out by Vulcan standards. Combine that with the turmoil going on inside his head right now-

 

“Peace. I do not mind assisting you. Nothing would stop me.”

 

It’s soft. Meant to be heard by him alone.

 

“Ya shouldn’t have to,” he whispers back.

 

“It is a _gift_ ! There will be _no_ taking it back!”

 

Sharp, painful bright pink spears his eyes. Breaking through the wall that Spock must have built around him. He looks at the Vur’erd who has shouted. The alien species is undocumented but they have warp capability and are on a whole highly technological. They’re just… dying out. Isolated by their beliefs and social hierarchy.

 

“A gift that no human mind is able to handle,” Jim responds. His eyes are narrowed, hands clenched and body such a bright pink individual features aren’t visible.

 

“We _told_ you humans aren’t empathic like you. We don’t form bonds like you. Feel emotions so keenly.”

 

The Vur’erd bears their teeth, antenna bobbing up and down.

 

“That is why we chose an already empathic person to receive the gift! As a healer, a _doctor_ he is already open to other’s emotions. It is a gift that no offworlder has ever been given and-”

 

“The doctor didn’t ask for this _gift_ ,” Leonard says drawing everyone’s eyes to him. He straightens up, trying not to lean into Spock’s side but not wanting to drift too far.

 

“The doctor doesn’t like havin’ decisions made without his consent. He doesn’t like havin’ his mind basically being raped by emotions tha’ aren’t his own. He doesn’t like bein’ so overwhelmed by those emotions tha’ death seems like the best fuckin’ options. How would ya feel if I walked up to ya and yanked on yer damn antenna!?” he demands angrily. His accent coming out thickly as Spock squeezes his hand. The Vur’erd cringe back, some of the younger ones holding their antenna protectively. The one who spoke looks ashamed for a second before a snotty look graces their face.

 

“It is the highest gift,” they insist. Speaking to Leonard like he’s a particularly dim child.

 

A sarcastic quip is on the tip of his tongue. It’s there ready to be said but… he just… he wants to get away from the people looking at him like he could be their savior. He doesn’t understand why they gave it to him. Because he won’t be able to save them. Especially if this is how they react to people not wanting their “gifts”. His heart is pounding in his chest. Like a rabbit trying to run away. A soft blue, like the sky, washes over him calming the rising emotions. He wants to go back home to the _Enterprise_. Logically he has no reason to beam away. He isn’t physically hurt. And maybe this gift can be taken back.

 

It can’t. It can’t be taken back. And trying to force the issue would be taken as an open declaration of war. He feels numb. Up on the _Enterprise_ , he can’t escape the emotions that aren’t his own. The veritable rainbow that he can’t parcel out. Can’t block out. He wants to cry, to rage. He feels violated and like he’s violating the very people he’s sworn to help. So he sits in his mostly unused room and tries to block it all out.

 

The blinding yellow, like the cute little sun in the corner of a child’s art project, like Joanna used to do, had nearly knocked him on his ass when he had tried to enter his Medbay. An Engineer had gotten his hand caught in a coupling while he was on planet. He can’t work like this. The pale green nurses that had rushed to him, pushed him out, would make sure he couldn’t sneak back in. So he closes his eyes and tries to block it all out. Imagines building a wall brick by brick until it reaches the sky. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch of dark red. It spreads out like blood in the water. Crying out with emotion. It is the anniversary of Ensign Marrows’ father’s death. Her thoughts and grief grab at him like a toddler. Drawing him into the despair. Clumsily he gathers his admiration of her and the soft understanding of a child who has buried their father and sends it to her before pulling back. The sadness stays with him. Almost crippling. But he is a McCoy. Stubborn to the bone. He builds the wall again. Making it thicker. A pale green tidal wave washes it away. His friends, the family he has made, are worried for him.

 

Tears make their way down his face. The wall isn’t working so he searches out blue. Calm. Blue. Even with his eyes closed, he can see the colors so it’s easy to find blue. It’s dark, like Romulan Ale, but he latches onto it anyways. Oh sweet god. Mary, Joseph, and the holy ghost. Lust. Deep blue and cloying. It wraps around him like an octopus. Pulling at him, demanding attention. He can’t let go. He’s so hot. A whine escapes his throat as he falls back onto his bed. His skin flushes as he sees what the person who is feeling the lust is seeing. He’s so hard. Wants to be pounded into his bed. Wants _Spock_ to press him down. Bruise his skin. Bite him until he bleeds. Wants to watch those eyes darken while that prickly asshole-

 

With a gasp, he breaks free of the spiralling thoughts. They weren’t his, he knows this. But the image of himself watching as his boyfriend has sex with someone else, heartbroken at having the past repeated… It kills any lust he might have felt and sends him spinning. He and Spock are the worst kept secret on the _Enterprise_ . They are discrete, preferring their private life staying private but at the same time, anyone can see the love… if they look past the squabbling. That’s foreplay for them though. And he’s pretty sure that after one trying away mission, when Leonard had to break a tenet of healing by healing a loved one, he had yelled out ‘you better not fucking leave me like this’. Someone wants his boyfriend. Which Leonard can’t blame them for because Spock is handsome, smart and a  fantastic lover, but the Vulcan is _his_. Spock, once he was ready to try dating again, had the entire ship to pick from and he chose Leonard. How he edged out the one person both he and Spock both wouldn’t mind adding to their relationship he doesn’t know. Maybe Spock had the same fears he had. Something that had been hard to believe long ago. And that person would never, not in a million years, want to hurt Leonard. It worries him that there is a crew member that would get off on his pain.

 

The door to his room opens, Jim. The one person that Leonard and Spock both love. Jim who is a pulsing kaleidoscope of bright pink and pale green. It swirls about like a top, one color becoming thicker than the other, often interrupted by streaks of lavender.

 

“How are you?” Jim asks standing in the doorway. Arms crossed and leaning to the side. Forcing casualness.

 

“Fuckin peachy.”

 

A flash of tan that tickles his sides followed by the sound of Jim laughing. He likes that color.

 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

 

And because Jim is the best friend that anyone can ask for he doesn’t press. He just uncrosses his arms, walks over to the bed and flops down next to Leonard. To his Bones. He doesn’t reach out to poke the lavender that is mixing with orange overtaking the other colors. Guilt eats at him for what he has felt. What he wasn’t meant to feel. At the thick bonds that connect him to Jim. To Spock. To Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. To Scotty and even Keenser. Leonard covers his face with his hands.

 

“I… I feel like I’m invading people's minds. Like I’m violating them,” his mind flashes to the lust and fantasy he had stumbled upon, “I can’t stop it. Not without feeling empty. Or like I’m cutting off a piece of myself. They refused to teach me Jim.”

 

His breath shudders.

 

“How am I supposed to help, to be a doctor when my mind is turning against me? When I keep intruding on things it shouldn’t? How can they trust me?” He asks wetly.

 

He braves a peek between his fingers. He had broken during the silence between them. The soft blue that Leonard knows is calmness has joined the lavender, orange has gone or at least faded. He latches onto the blue like a lifeline. It’s wrong. Invasive. But it blocks out the other feelings.

 

“If I latch on to one feeling it’s like I’m in their mind. I see or feel whatever is causing that feeling… I… I’m sorry.”

 

Jim raises an eyebrow at him. Trying to pull a Spock no doubt.

 

“You’re calm,” Leonard’s eyes glaze over a bit, “calm. At peace, because this is a safe place for you even when everything else isn’t…. shit! I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay Bones. I don’t mind it. But uh… do you feel anything else?”

 

Bones huffs a laugh. It’s mirthless. Almost sad.

 

“I’ve buried myself in the calm like a damn ostrich buries their head in the sand. I ain’t feeling anything else. And while there are new colors swirling around you, I ain’t touching it with a ten-foot pole.”

 

Tan speckles the blue that coats his vision, tinting it instead of completely blocking it out. Amusement, Leonard decides as Jim chuckles.

 

“You say that like you stumbled across something you would rather not have,” it’s meant to be teasing. Leonard knows this. But he sees himself as that unnamed crew member saw him in their fantasy. He flinches.

 

“Yes.”

 

He’s shorter than he meant to be with Jim, and his whole face crumbles. His own guilt doubling as blue-green blacks out his vision. Thick like gravy, staticky. _His fault. It’s his fault that this happened. Why did he force Bones to come with him? Stupid. Stupid._ **_Stupid._ **

 

“Stop! Please,” Leonard cries reaching blindly for Jim, “I don’t blame you.”

 

The blue-green pulses stronger than before and then it just… goes away. Distressingly so is the calm. He’s upset Jim. Leonard curses inside his head. Jim who has always been his rock. Who he has tried to be a rock to in return.

 

“Sorry, Bones. I should-“

 

“Stay?”

 

Jim who had risen from the bed flops back down. The blue slowly creeps back like a beaten dog. Strained and thin. Slowly Leonard lets his body relax and brush against Jim’s. Just like when they were cadets. Orange and lavender thread the pale blue. Slowly Leonard’s head moves to Jim’s lap and one of Jim’s hands rests in his hair. This is how Spock finds them sometime later.

 

Leonard opens one eye, half asleep. Love. Strong and almost all-encompassing wakes him. Rocks him. It’s a shock to find his vision streaked with lavender, like thick branches and Spock is the trunk.

 

“Oh.”

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I'll likely be coming back to this so the cliffhanger will be touched on in the sequel.  
> Color guide:  
> Bright Pink- anger  
> Pale Green- worry  
> Dark Red- sadness  
> Yellow- pain  
> Soft Blue- calm  
> Romulan Ale Blue- lust  
> Lavender- romantic love  
> Tan- amusement  
> Orange- platonic love/affection
> 
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